


No Friends in Tastes and Colours

by lalunaticscribe



Series: Worlds Beyond Rationality [4]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, M/M, Multiple regions, Pokémon Deconstruction, Pokémon Performers, Pokémon Setting, Pokémon and Politics, Spoilers for Sun&Moon?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaticscribe/pseuds/lalunaticscribe
Summary: "It is, for better or worse, the capriciousness of Pokémon that have made choices, shaped our world, and forced us to become stronger, smarter, better. Above all, it is the Pokémon Trainer’s job to capture, battle and study these monsters to have them accepted. 
 Perhaps, the role of a Pokémon Performer is one of the intermediary – nothing more and nothing less than to show other humans...that Pokémon can be safe for human contact."___TL;DR: Pokémon Performer AU.





	1. Prologue: Ivory

_Foreword to Pokémon and the Performance (Kalosian: Pokémon et La Séance) – A Historiography of Pokémon in Theatre and Media:_

Pocket Monsters – Pokémon for short.

They are this world’s strange and fantastic living creatures. Their exact number... nobody knows.

In this world, Pokémon live in the oceans, in the mountains, in towns. Wherever you are in this world, you will see them. They may live alongside people, or alone in nature. They might also flock with their companions, living life in various ways.

It is worth noting, of course, that people adore monsters. They fill their songs and stories with them. They define themselves in relation to them. To them, Pokémon symbolise power – power, and choice, to shape nature. It is, for better or worse, the capriciousness of Pokémon that have made choices, shaped our world, and forced us to become stronger, smarter, better. Above all, it is the Pokémon Trainer’s job to capture, battle and study these monsters to have them accepted.

Perhaps, the role of a Pokémon Performer is one of the intermediary – nothing more and nothing less than to show other humans, without the enemy-ally mechanism of combat, that Pokémon can be safe for human contact.

All the world knows of Viktor Nikiforov, five-time consecutive Grand Champion of the Pokémon World Stage, five straight Grands Prix, and numerous championships of his Sinnoh region. All of the Pokémon exhibited in his performances – the Furfrou, Milotic, a particular Alolan variant of Ninetales – have been welcomed and admired as beautiful additions to the world of Pokémon training at large.

Yet, how does a job like his, where he is paid to train Pokémon in artistry rather than antagonism, come about?

Within this book, what is primarily discussed would be: competitive Pokémon Contests, and Pokémon Performances – their cultural backgrounds, their rise, and the beginnings where humans and Pokémon create together. Compiled are the approaches taken towards Pokémon in the theatrical and spectacular arts – from the Contest to the screen, from Pokéstar Studios to the stages of the world, from the Pokémon Leagues of the seven regions – Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos and Alola – towards the informational superhighway that tangles us all.

In this world, there are as many encounters as there are Pokémon.

There are dreams – as many dreams, as there are Pokémon.

And, for every Pokémon, there is a performance where they shine.

– _Marguerite Linden du Bois_ , Ph. D.  
A/P, École Normale Supérieure d’Illumis.

* * *

“ _After stunning us with an incredible building project, he’s swept through the Battle components!_ ” Announcer Hisashi Morooka cried out to the cheering Eterna City Gym stadium at large.

Upon the stadium surrounded by reinforced concrete walls, a Milotic undulated, beams of cold shooting from his mouth to freeze the ground. It slid across the stadium alongside its Trainer and fellow Performer, who had actually donned skates in preparation for when Milotic’s Ice Beam froze the whole ground to let him dive into the fray.

“ _After an incredible show of jumping into the battlefield, an unexpected move that, while illegal in competitive battling, would only be extremely unexpected in Pokémon performance, he’s won! It will be the fifth consecutive World Stage for Snowpoint City’s legend, Viktor Nikiforov!_ ”

A brush of silver hair, a kissed medal, and another victory lap of Trainer and Pokémon on the ruined stadium turned impromptu ice rink.

“ _Viktor Nikiforov is now 27. Some speculated that he might retire after this season, but his masterful performance_ _seems to lay such rumours to rest for now. As for Hoenn’s Yuuri Katsuki, who earned a spot on the World Stage for the first time... what do you think,_ _Chatot_ _?_ ”

“ _Ah, that’s difficult to say._ _He didn’t perform like his usual self._ _Maybe it’s due to_ _using a Grass-type Pokémon,_ _but this is the city of a Grass-type Gym!_ _We’ll have to ask Gardenia for her opinion on how a Steen_ _e_ _e can mess up the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy..._ _I thought it was practically made for th_ _e Bounsweet line_ _!_ ”

* * *

Yuuri usually understood a Pokémon Performance like a magic trick, except with creatures that were stronger, faster and generally more powerful than humans.

It seemed churlish and objectifying of Pokémon, who were living and breathing creatures, thank you very much, in an ordinary setting. It is real, of course – all Pokémon are, at heart, still living beings. They are pledged on the stage by their Trainer’s choice.

Still, the ordinary Pokémon is shown, and made to do something extraordinary. A light show, fire, water bubbles, blooming plants – the powers of Pokémon lent themselves well to both war and artistry. The audience is turned; they are convinced.

The audience wouldn’t clap yet, though.

The wonder of Pokémon was not enough – that was the job of the Performer, and why being licensed for a Performer needed eight regional badges or the equivalent thereof to participate in the Pokémon League.1

The hardest part, the prestige, was to keep it all under control, in time to chosen music, within two minutes and fifty seconds, according to a chosen theme that would be polished throughout the whole Performance season of that year’s choice – Spring, Summer, Autumn or Winter – within a randomised environment and whatever there was to be scrounged up.

That was the Free-Exhibition component alone.

The Exhibition Battle component was another story.

Hidden within the four plastic walls of a cubicle, Yuuri Katsuki of Hoenn sat on a toilet seat and put his face in his hands. Outside of the closeted world, away from the buzz of victorious battles and cheers, there was only him and one other.

“ _Steen_?”

The Pokémon was bipedal, humanoid, and the top of her head barely reached up to his knees. Dark purple eyes blinked in concerned under a large, light violet calyx with two large leaves extended out to the sides like pigtails, somewhat discoloured from the relative lack of sunlight in a Sinnoan winter. A short stem protruded from the top of its white head.

“ _Steen, Steenee._ ” White arms patted Yuuri’s knee, while another white fleshy part roughly analogous to its hip pressed against his calf in comfort, along with her purple legs and torso, the former hardened and sharpened to a point from natural biology and dance practices. A comforting fragrance exuded from her fruity body – there was a reason why she was called the Fruit Pokémon.

Yuuri’s hand patted her arm, nearly tipping over his phone. “Sorry, Hani-chan,” he sniffed. “I messed up.”

“ _Steen_? _Steen..._ ” Hani tapped the screen.

It showed a younger Yuuri and a tanned younger boy. Young Yuuri still wore thick black-framed glasses, and three Pokémon showed up next to them – a Bounsweet on Yuuri’s shoulder, a Dedenne on top of the other human’s head, and a Furfrou with Yuuri’s arms wrapped around it. Hani kept tapping the other human.

“P- Phichit-kun? Ah, he caught you and then traded you to me...” Yuuri swallowed. “I’ll call him to arrange the trade back-”

A Pokémon’s Double Slap might be considered weak, but it was still a legal Pokémon move for the reason that Pokémon were usually absurdly stronger than humans. Yuuri’s face slammed into the cubicle wall.

Hani gingerly picked up the fallen phone. Having now thieved the phone, she jabbed with her fleshy hands at the screen, oblivious to Yuuri’s whimpers. Somehow, the call function picked up. One tone, two-

“... _Alola_?” A soft yawn as the call picked up. “ _Yuuri? Is that you?_ ”

“ _Steen, Steenee, Steen!_ ”

“P- Phichit-kun,” Yuuri shuddered as the phone was shoved back into his abused face.

“ _Yuuri!_ _Alola!_ _How are you?_ ”

“...I messed up.”

**_ _ **

* * *

**_1 This was to compensate for the Alola region’s unique island trial system, which has been heralded as a more coexistence-oriented pedagogy of young Trainers to learn about Pokémon in their natural habitat. It was also an implicit criticism of the other regions’ somewhat militaristic focus on purely the battle side of Pokémon. Either side of the debate was still ongoing._ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : PokéDex claims that Steenee has a tomboyish personality, and in Pokémon, the best attackers are those with adamant personalities, haha. – LLS


	2. I: Cherry Blossom Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Koffing haunted the smoker’s corner, grinning. Overhead in the gate of the airport, a flock of Swanna and Ducklett flashed and fluttered their wings. An electrical accident sent off sparks and attracted a haunting of Rotom, as the emergency Magnemite along with their coordinator the human and a Magnezone started zooming through the air to start damage control.
> 
> Time marched on, anyway.

## Rustboro University Thesis Proposal Form

 _Author(s):_ Yuuko Nishigori and Takeshi Nishigori

_Thesis Supervisor: Lycoris Manjusaka, Ph. D._

_Department of Media & Communications_

_Faculty of Arts and Letters, RU._

Certainly, academics agree that Growlithe were amongst the first domesticated Pokémon without the assistance of Apicorns or Pokéballs. It must have seemed like divine providence that Pokémon such as Growlithe was around to helped man through its earliest, most trying age – providing fire to cook food and warm shelters, eating Rattata and other vectors of disease, guarding caves, defending against criminals and hostile Pokémon (Oak, XXXX).

The first spectacle where human and Pokémon took to the stage together, though, is unknown. Pokémon do enjoy music and dance and amusement as much as the next human. Certainly, dance festivals such as the Ludicolo Rain Dance in Hoenn, the Lilligant Festival of the Decolore Islands, and Canalave City’s Full Moon Dance Festival do exist (du Bois, XXXX).

The codification of Pokémon performance as a discipline, though, must be traced to within recent history – around the past two hundred years, to be certain. Branching out from the comparatively hands-off aspects of Pokémon Contests, Pokémon Performance sought to emphasise the bonds between Pokémon and Trainer outside of battle (Inter-Regional Pokémon Stage Rules, XXXX: Introduction, p. 1). We have reason to pursue the notion that Pokémon Performance is in fact a counter-cultural movement away from the traditions of Pokémon combat towards a non-violent competition to satisfy the

There are two components to any Pokémon Performance competition, or ‘Stage’: the most well-known is the Free Appeal, where Performer and Pokémon – minimum of one, a maximum of six – would stage a combined short program using a set number of Pokémon moves set around a theme of their choice ( _ibid_ : p. 2). The importance of that bond in battle, though, could not be under-emphasised – which is the reason why the second component of any Pokémon Stage is a randomly allotted restricted Pokémon battle ( _ibid_ : p. 3).

Unlike normal Pokémon battles, though, the key is to show off the beauty of one’s Pokémon and one’s bond with said Pokémon. Performers such as Professors Kukui and Burnet have entered battle alongside their Pokémon (Burnet and Kukui, XXXX; Hala, XXXX; Jubilife TV, XXXX).

The criteria remains dependent on the judges’ evaluation of the grade of execution of Pokémon moves on the Technical Elements Score (TES), and the performance component score (PCS) choices made by the Performer in: skills; transition between moves; execution; and interpretation ( _ibid_ : p. 4-5). More details are covered in Annex A, but we must make clear that it is entirely possible to win the battle, and lose the Stage. It is also possible to lose the battle, and still win the Stage.

Having said all of that, we propose to take a research-quantitative approach towards the Pokémon Performer as a calling. Our focus will take a particular focus on the Pokémon Performers of the XXI century, including but not limited to: Viktor Nikiforov, Lilia Baranovskaya, Minako Okukawa etc. A list of materials required for fieldwork to be cleared by the Institutional Review Board is listed in Annex B.

By pursuing this research, we hope to:

\- establish the role of Pokémon Performance as an art driven towards the better understanding of Pokémon;

\- that Pokémon Performers form a subset of cultural attitudes towards the role of the Trainer in Pokémon battling; and,

\- that this new sport, while still nascent in its ascension to the international stage, is gaining momentum as another way to approach Pokémon competition without violence.

END

 **SUPERVISOR’S COMMENTS:** **Have just received notice from Nishigori pair that** **their triplets Axel, Lutz and Loop, have falsified** **the thesis proposal under their identities as part-time** **graduate students under Professor** **Od** **a** **maki** **Birch.** **E** **xcellent** **basis** **overall, despite** **it being an attempt to filch university funds** **to attend** **family friend Yuuri Katsuki’s** **performance in** **Eterna City** **and subsequent performances over** **the** **next season.**

 **H** **ave advised Nishigori parents to investigate person responsible for looking up the references** **within.** **None of the triplets qualify for intensive training at the Mossdeep** **City** **Gym,** **and none of them own an Alakazam** **(six years old, really?!)** **. The quality of this paper is much better than most actual undergraduates, which** **speak** **s** **glowingly or** **ominously about the state of Hoenn’s education system.**

 **W** **ritten a letter of recommendation to** **Roxanne** **of Rustboro** **City** **Gym** **to** **take** **the** **triplets** **as day students** **.** **Lavaridge Town is only one town over.** **Flannery would not have the maturity to handle three precocious girls.**

 **W** **ritten an inter-departmental notice** **aimed at all departments to take caution** **of any requests submitted by the Nishigori** **pair** **.**

 **F** **orwarded** **thesis proposal to** **du Bois.** **She’ll be interested to know that precocious students are still very much a thing.**

– **L.M.**

* * *

 

**Source[here  
](https://syruubi.tumblr.com/post/152478191834/pokemon-au-pokemon-au-i-guess-it-would-take)**

“ _Steen. Steenee Steen._ ”

“I’m very sorry, Hani-chan. Could you forgive me?” Yuuri begged from where his marginally-smaller Pokémon manhandled him out of the toilets and into the atrium of the Eterna City Pokémon Gym Stadium.

“ _Steen_.” Hani kicked him in the ankle. “ _Steen, Steenee._ ”

“We’re attracting looks, Hani!”

“Yuuri, _there_ you are!” Celestino Cialdini swept upon the Trainer and Pokémon pair, his Standard language tinged with an accent all the way from Kiloude City. Behind him trailed the Heliolisk which had defined his career before the switch into coaching. “And why is Hani angry at you? Sole, _caro mio_ , please?”

“I made her angry...” Yuuri mumbled as the Heliolisk started to hiss at Hani, who snapped back.

A heavy laugh echoed behind them. Neither of them paid attention to it, since it was hastily stifled anyway. Both coach and Performer travelled in silence to the Eterna City Airport, luggage wheeling along behind each of them and crunching as a light snowfall fell over Eterna City. The silence that pervaded the air was so awkward, that even the Pokémon were exchanging looks once they had crossed the gate.

“ _Lisk_.”

“Ah, yes,” Celestino started as they passed by a café. “Yuuri, would you like a drink?”

“Oh, I’m fine, I couldn’t-”

“It’ll be great!” Celestino checked his watch as the Heliolisk gave him a gimlet look. “We’re about two hours early anyway, might as well get you a calming Roserade Tea. Stay here.” To Hani, the coach nodded, “Watch him.”

Yuuri sank lower into the worn upholstery of the café – one of the chain-stores like in Alola, he thought. A café at every Pokémon Centre, each serving a variety of drinks. He blinked down at the empty space where the Steenee was supposed to be, and started.

“Hani-chan-”

“Hani! Why aren’t you with your Trainer?!”

“ _Steen_!”

Yuuri sank back to stare at the Heliolisk. “Sorry I failed,” he offered to the Pokémon, since it was unlikely to talk even if it was giving him a look of pity.

One clawed foreleg patted his knee. “ _Lisk, Heliolisk._ ”

Most Pokémon might not speak human languages, but they were certainly more expressive for all of their silence. Not even the hubbub of humans – and some Pokémon – managed to convey as much as a Heliolisk simply repeating what sounded like its name over and over again.

A plate plopped in front of Yuuri. “ _Steen_!” Hani cheered as she leapt and landed on the table, in front of the-

“Where did you get that, Hani-chan?” Yuuri stared at the cupcake with Rawst Berry icing. “Please don’t tell me you stole it!”

“Ah, she kept bugging me to buy it, for some reason,” Celestino was carrying two mugs, standing beside Yuuri’s chair in confusion as they watched the Steenee poke a fork into the cupcake upright.

Hani clapped, and then began to sing. “ _Steenee Stee-nee Stee Stee~ Steenee Stee-nee Stee Stee~..._ ”

“...happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to you.” Celestino clapped along. “It’s your birthday, Hani?”

In answer, the Steenee shoved the fork, cupcake and all, into Yuuri’s face. Rawst Berry icing stuck to his glasses and his cheeks pinked on contact with the cooling anti-burn Berry juices within. “ _Steen_!”

Slowly, Yuuri wiped his face with a serviette. “Phichit put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“ _Steen_?” Hani gave him an innocent look. It was definitely not Baby-Doll Eyes. Yuuri had checked; that particular move did not appear in Bounsweet’s move-pool.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri jumped in his seat, looking around. The cadence of that voice was... familiar. Where had he heard it?

“About the battle components, your choice of moves could be-”

“I won, so who cares? Quit nagging, Viktor.”

The speakers were a young man with silver hair, and a young boy with his hood pulled up against the Sinnoan winter. Yuuri stared at them, as if his eyes would suddenly match the Keen Eye of some Flying-type Pokémon. All the better to impress the sight of the legendary Viktor Nikiforov talking to Yuri Plisetsky, the kid who had just swept the Junior World Stage.

“Oh, it’s another Yuuri,” Yuuri sucked in a breath.

“Steen!” The fork was shoved even more insistently, smudging Rawst Berry icing onto his face. The exclamation caused the silver-haired man wearing a red and white sports jacket to turn around.

“Hmm?” Blue eyes caught his, and a small smile played around his lips. “Is your face alright?”

“Viktor! Ciao Ciao.”

“Celestino, is there something wrong with him?” Viktor innocently added. “You only put Rawst Berry on your face in case of burns. What happened?”

Under the bright blue icing, Yuuri’s face blushed with heat enough to rival that of Mt Chimney back home. “I’m going to the washroom!”

“This is so embarrassing!” Yuuri kept squeaking to himself in the flat sprint for the washrooms. “I’m an idiot! I thought I could meet my idol on the same playing field, and not like this!”

“ _Steenee, Steen!_ ” Steenee’s purple foot tapped a beat on the tiled floor, where she had been waiting for Yuuri outside of the airport’s bathroom. Although Pokémon were a general exception to the rule of gender-segregated toilets, she was not alone – an Alolan Raichu was making quick chatter with its Kanto counterpart and a Dedenne. It was like watching a sumo match. A lanyard around her neck identified her as a Pokémon owned by someone else.

“Sorry, Hani-chan. Did you meet any trouble?” Yuuri knelt down to meet her eye level.

“ _Steen_...” her calyx drooped.

“It’s alright!” Yuuri floundered. “I know you were trying to cheer me up! It’s working! See, I’m smiling!”

The smile nearly cracked but for the Steenee’s answering smile.

“Let’s... go home.”

“ _Steen_!”

A Koffing haunted the smoker’s corner, grinning. Overhead in the gate of the airport, a flock of Swanna and Ducklett flashed and fluttered their wings. An electrical accident sent off sparks and attracted a haunting of Rotom, as the emergency Magnemite along with their coordinator the human and a Magnezone started zooming through the air to start damage control.

Time marched on, anyway.


	3. II: Scarlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor ran the tips of his fingers along her marvellous dorsal scales. His next words rang in the wordless shadows of the pool next to the stadium, with the sincerity of a Trainer who had caught a Feebas and fought against all odds to induce evolution by raising its beauty. It made the hollow ring of a Bronzong, that echoed of an ephemeral world of fruitlessness.
> 
> “You’re perfect.”

_Foreword to Contesting History: Timeline of the Hoenn Pokémon Contest (Manjusaka, L., foreword by du Bois, M. L.)_

It was said that Pokémon Contests developed out of the quintessential argument: which Pokémon was the most beautiful? With impartial judgements and a format of aesthetic appeal combined with function and motion, the notion of beauty could perhaps be found. Types mattered little in such contests, which was the reason why Beauty was the sole category at the beginning.

A few years after, the sudden evolution of a Coordinator’s prize Feebas on stage captured the imaginations of the Hoenn region where Pokémon Contests had begun. Milotic had inspired and haunted the dreams of artists for generations – if it evolved from Feebas, as the notion went, then Feebas could not be without beauty of their own.

Trainers from near and far began henceforth to enter all sorts of Pokémon never before considered beautiful, in the hopes of pulling off a surprise – or discovering an evolution, as Trainers were wont to pursue.

They were unsuccessful. The other qualities displayed by those hopeful contestants, though, led to the diversification of Pokémon Contests into the five present categories today.

There is a saying in Johto: ten men, ten colours. Each Pokémon possesses its own charm to humans. Perhaps, in the end, _chacun à son goût_.

– _Marguerite Linden du Bois_

* * *

Lavaridge Town stood on the southern foot of Mt. Chimney, in the central western part of the Hoenn region. Well known for its hot springs, it served a popular destination for elderly citizens. The presence of a League-certified Pokémon Gym also encouraged young Trainers to come to this pocket tucked away in the midst of the Hoenn island chain and set right next to the Jagged Pass.

Getting to Lavaridge Town, however, was a different story. Since Hoenn was still recovering from the terrible clash of weathers since the last time that Teams Aqua and Magma clashed and awoke Groundon and Kyogre, most of Hoenn’s transport infrastructure had suffered from the resulting combination of simultaneous rain and sun. Therefore, the civilian – read, non-Trainer – way of getting to the little town in central western Hoenn from touchdown in Mauville Aeroport was by bus up north to Route 111, instead of taking a train.

“ _So,_ _Yuuri,_ _remember when I caught_ _Hani_ _?_ ” Phichit’s cheery voice came in over Yuuri’s smartphone.

Sitting in the bus, Yuuri could hardly hang up on his best friend. “Yes, Phichit-kun. Hani landed on my lap, and you took a selfie after I fended off a Wingull. That was when we first met while waiting for the plane to Unova. I still have the photo.”

“ _So, remember what happened in the selfie?_ ”

Yuuri frowned, recalling a patchwork cloth and long shadowy arms. “Didn’t it follow you all the way to Unova or something?”

“ _Yuuri, you caught it, and we agreed to trade my Bounsweet for Kirtimukha since it loves to photobomb._ ” Phichit paused. “ _Hang on, Kirti is-_ ”

The call switched to video call, and Yuuri dived to pull out his earphones before the whole bus could hear the call.

“Y͈̩̖̜̜͍̙͕ͩ̓͂͆̆u̳̰̼̘̟͈̜̱͎ͯ̓u̩̥̗͐͑̅ͩ̈̚r͎͕͓͓̜̩͑ͥ̔̊͆i͚͓͍͖͂ͯ̐̎ͩ̐.̙̰̺͙̰̬̹̀ͬ̍̒̏̉.͎̬ͧͣ̇̌.͚͉͓͖̘̭̍ͭͮ”

“Ah, _alola_ to Kirtimukha too. It’s... been a while.” Yuuri winced as the plush face of a patchwork ice mouse. “Is that... a Sandshrew’s Alolan form?”

“ _She’s been branching out!_ ” Phichit chirped next to the snow-white felt textured like fur, the bobby stuffed Sandshrew head, and the beady eyes set in its torso. “ _I’ll take a picture of it later, but Kirti, show him your costume!_ ”

“A̝̲̻̲̜̾̽ḻ̞͔͔̇̓ͫr̜͈͈̯͉̋̾̐̾̋̍̅i͎͉̻̦̥͂̊͋ͯ͛̿̇g͆ͦ̍̉̓h͔̜̬ͧ͆̔̈ͯ̆͋t̯̻̱̣̼͑̒̎̑.̲͓͇.̦̹̱͓̗͓.͇̗̜̪̥́”

The Mimikyu changed – faster than Yuuri could see, for it never showed its true form between pulling the costume off, and the demi-second it took to put another in place.

“Wow, that’s... very accurate, Kirti.”

That seemed the most appropriate response to a Pokémon so obsessed with being caught on camera, that it had stalked Phichit right into Unova. The clawed shadowy hands of the Mimikyu, covered in separately attached blue sleeves, wiggled. A copy of Yuuri’s own head, stuffed and mounted on... something... bobbed as the Mimikyu preened at the compliment paid to its craftsmanship.

“ _Kirti made it by hand, without help!_ ” In Yuuri’s tiny screen, an Alolan Raichu dropped and squeaked from Phichit’s head.

The Mimikyu changed again. The glasses and paler skin swapped into a different model, one of a young tanned man in red and gold.

“ _Er..._ ”

“Phichit-kun! Is that your costume this year?” Yuuri exclaimed.

“ _Kirti made mine_ _and Vajra’s_ _too. I guess there was leftover fabric... Alola, Hani_!” Phichit added as Hani poked her face into the screen as the bus hit a pothole, nearly sending the Grass-type Pokémon careening into a window. “ _Ah, what happened?_ ”

“Pot hole.” Yuuri settled her on his knee. “Sorry.”

“ _Steenee_!” The Steenee tapped on the screen.

“ _The two of you are doing well, yep!_ ” Phichit was nodding with a fond look at the Mimikyu. Overhead, the bus’s intercom began to beep.

“Lavaridge Town, arriving.”

“Sorry, Phichit-kun, I need to get off here,” Yuuri apologised. “Talk to you later? Alola!”

“ _Alola!_ _Hani, you make sure our boy’s alright with Iro!_ _Kirti and I want_ _updates!_ ”

Yuuri hung up, managing to barely get himself and his Pokémon companion out of the bus and into the Lavaridge Transport Interchange before anyone could be publicly inconvenienced. His suitcase was just barely retrieved before it rolled down a concrete slope and fell over the shell of a Torkoal.

“Ah, sorry!” Yuuri rushed to grab the rolling suitcase, apologising to the grunting Pokémon.

“Oh, isn’t it Yuuri?”

“ _Yuuri_!”

Oh, no, no, _no_ -

“Why are you skulking around?!”

Yuuri stood up to greet the woman who had exclaimed once she noticed him. “Minako-sensei?! Why are you here?”

The older woman crossed her arms across the buttoning of her trench coat – of Kalosian design, Yuuri absently noted. “To welcome you back after so many years!”

“ _Voir_!” The Gardevoir next to Minako agreed verbally.

Yuuri turned his eyes to the skies. “Étoile, no.”

Future Sight meant something very different, when a Pokémon was using the move to pre-empt mischief before it happened – or in Yuuri’s case, to pre-empt any attempt to quietly sneak back home without raising a fuss. Already, a commotion was starting up, as a passing old lady and her grandson pointed him out.

“ _Isn’t that Yuuri?_ ”

“ _Wonder what he’s doing now?_ ”

“ _He lost a big competition last year..._ ”

“ _Steen!_ ” Hani cheered as Yuuri was dragged into shaking hands with people who may or may not know of his career thanks to Minako.

“ _Voir_!” Étoile agreed.

“ _Steenee_!”

“ _Voir, Gardevoir!_ ”

Then the two Pokémon followed their Trainers, still chatting amiably through the streets of Lavaridge Town. Yū-topia Akatsuki loomed as Minako dragged Yuuri along the side-walks, past the Herb Shop, the PokéMart and the Pokémon Centre to one of the few remaining hot spring inns in all of Hoenn.

“What about your classes, Minako-sensei?”

“We’re closed today,” Minako brushed off. “I barely have any students these days, anyway. They’re all going off to Mauville City now, and only come here for a night for the Centres and the hot springs and the Gym. Your return should cheer things up around here!”

Frozen, Yuuri tugged back his hand. “Sorry... I’m a bit tired.”

“Really?” Minako blinked, her mouth set in a thin line. “Everyone’s dying to-”

**Minako.**

“...I know, Étoile,” Minako glared at the direction of the telepathically delivered word. “Well, let’s go back.”

Yuuri trailed behind the Gardevoir. “...thanks, Étoile.”

The Gardevoir continued to walk a few steps behind its Trainer. On the surface, in that world of masks, she did not reply. A voice in his head, though, purred in understanding kindness, accompanying him in spirit to the guardian angel of Lavaridge Town.

* * *

“I’m _bored_.”

Immersed in a pool specially set aside for Water-type Pokémon at the Mauville City Pokémon Stadium, a Master-certified prize-winning Milotic narrowed its eyes at the speaker. The gesture was not made out of anger. Rather, it was made with a sort of grim resolution to weather its beloved Trainer and his current airheaded course of boredom.

“Vika, _milaya moya_ ,” Viktor Nikiforov slumped against the edges of the pool, uncaring of the fuchsia jacket with gold epaulettes currently in danger of getting permanent water stains, “should I switch it up? Ask Nastya to take over you for this match?”

A blue-finned tail scooped up some water and splashed it close to Viktor.

Viktor rolled away. “Yes, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Mollified, the water cascaded back into the pool, and the Milotic gave a plaintive cry of questioning.

Viktor gave her a wink, complete with the charm he showed in public, before the charm slipped, and the Trainer who had searched the foot of Mt Coronet for a Feebas by himself so many years ago slumped back onto the floor. “No, of course not, I trust you and Nastya and Makkachin- it’s just a... bit under the weather. Our routines are perfect, and surprising.”

A bark, and a Furfrou bounded in. The Milotic slid out of the pool, naturally gliding along to leave a sopping wet trail behind its glittering and graceful body.

Viktor ran the tips of his fingers along her marvellous dorsal scales. His next words rang in the wordless shadows of the pool next to the stadium, with the sincerity of a Trainer who had caught a Feebas and fought against all odds to induce evolution by raising its beauty. It made the hollow ring of a Bronzong, that echoed of an ephemeral world of fruitlessness.

“You’re perfect.”


	4. III: Sienna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “See, now I know something’s wrong,” Christophe sank into the only other chair in the green room where Yakov had bundled Viktor into the moment the Blissey appeared. “Blissey only act like that when they sense sadness, don’t they.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE NOW!!! Episode TEN. Episode 10.
> 
> Thanks to my temp beta, Ji. Ji won't be able to beta for me after December, :(. If anyone wants to apply to be a beta reader, please message me via Tumblr! Or leave a comment indicating your interest! – LLS

 

“ _After the Performance Stage of the Mauville Festival, Viktor Nikiforov of Snowpoint City is in first place_ _here at the Mauville City Pokémon Stadium_ _,_ ” an announcer’s voice drifted over the air within the public area of Yū-topia Akatsuki. “ _Following the World Stage, he won over the crowds in Sinnoh’s Grand Festival, as well as the Northern Hemisphere Festival. Clearly he’s still on a roll,_ _here at Day Two of the Mauville Festival_ _. The Battle Stage will start later_ _this evening_ _._ ”

A bottle of _shōchū_ was set down next to an old customer. “Ah, thank you-” The man’s words got stuck in his throat. “You’re Yuuri-kun’s Pokémon, right?”

Dimly lit with the warm glow of yellowed bulbs, the Gardevoir seemed almost greyed. It made a smooth motion, towards the tag pinned to its dress: _My name is Iro._

“Ah, thanks, Iro-chan,” the old man smoothly recovered. “Yuuri-kun isn’t in the Mauville Festival?”

**He didn’t make the cut. However, he can finally come home thanks to that.**

“I’m glad to hear that,” the old man turned back to his newspaper as he continued the half-telepathic conversation. “What about the rest of the team?”

The question went unanswered, as the rasping of an opened door caught her attention along with a yell. “Hiroko! I brought Yuuri home!”

The declaration that shook Yū-topia Akatsuki had more than one effect. A mass of bewhiskered blue-skinned flesh immediately dived over the service counter, yipping in eagerness as water slid off of its fleshy body and drenched the wooden parquet flooring. A yellow cone-shaped thing joined the Sealeo as they caught Yuuri, backpack and all, in a flying tackle.

Blue light surrounded all three forms, easily holding them in the air.

“Thank you, Iro,” Minako commented, glaring at the awkwardly contrite Sealeo and Snorunt.

 **There was no need to run, so the two of you will float there as punishment. Welcome back, Yuuri.** Both Ice-type Pokémon gave cries of complaint as the Gardevoir, having returned to a blue colouration under normal lighting, floated over to give Yuuri a hug.

“I’m back, Iro,” Yuuri blushed under the skinship contact. “Could you please put down Chiri and Nuru?”

The shiny Gardevoir stooped to look Hani in the eyes. **You watched him well.**

“ _Iro_.”

Both Ice-types dropped, and Yuuri squeaked as the Sealeo embraced him with a tackle behind the knees.

“You’ve lost weight, Hiroko,” Minako commented, having turned away from the reunion of Pokémon and trainer when it started to get boisterous.

“Thank you, Minako-sempai!” Katsuki Hiroko bustled along, a Chimecho floating along in her wake like tinkling bells to stop just before the entrance way. “Yuuri, welcome back!”

“I’m back...” Yuuri’s voice was muffled as the Sealeo tackled him with a full-body slam. “I’m sorry it’s been five years, and for offloading my Pokémon on such short notice-”

“It’s all good!” Hiroko waved her arms to the chimes of her Pokémon. “We’re sorry that we couldn’t make your graduation either. Are you hungry?”

“Yuuri, you’re back!” A cheerful grey-haired man walked up. The waddling effect he gave was slightly compounded by the Torkoal lumbering aside him. “See, Heron? We didn’t hear it wrong!”

“Heron, Suzu, I’m back,” Yuuri greeted the Pokémon. It might seem strange to us, but Pokémon were very much a part of the family, just as a Trainer’s team was more or less the Trainer’s travelling family – all the way to Ever Grande, and beyond. His mother’s Chimecho and his father’s Torkoal had been hanging around longer than _he_ had been – as babysitters, companions-

“ _K_ _oa_!” A bellow of white smoke floated up, carrying with it the smell of burning coal and other things.

Yuuri sniffed the air, and then stared at his father’s Torkoal. “Dad... Is that Lax Incense you’re burning in Heron’s shell?”

“Yep!” Yuuri’s father looked incredibly proud of himself. “The Pokémon Day Care down by Route 117 borrowed him to breed a Wynaut egg for hatching in the hot springs. Never mind that, eat lots tonight!”

Yuuri nodded. “B- Before that...”

“Oh, right,” his mother smiled in understanding. “Go say hi to Vicchan and wash up.”

* * *

Adjusting his cuffs for the nth time, Viktor patted the crown of a dark grey doll-like Pokémon with a zip as its mouth and a lanyard identifying it as part of security around its neck. “You’ve been a great help.”

The Banette gave a thumbs-up, wordlessly motioning with both its long, flat arms.

“I don't understand,” Viktor laughed. His mouth hung wide open, and seemed shaped like a heart. “Can you speak?”

The security Banette gave him a dirty look. Even its zipped mouth was compressed into a thin line, and several of the pins stuck into its stuffed body vibrated.

Viktor blinked, recalling all his words earlier- “Ah. Oops.”

Ten seconds later, Yakov rushed onto the scene trailed by a Trevenant with a lanyard around its slender tree-like neck. The living tree grabbed the Banette, using Phantom Force to leap bodily through with its subordinate away from the source of trouble.

“Vitya, you idiot,” Yakov said with feeling. “Did you ask a Banette to talk?! You lived with wild Banette before moving to Snowpoint!”

“My bad, Yakov,” Viktor apologised, still with a foolishly artless grin. “We’re ready to perform.”

“Are you alright? Did you get cursed?”

“Yes and no, I really do owe that Banette an apology,” Viktor sighed.

“Make sure you apologise later,” Yakov sniffed. “The last thing we need is a curse-happy Banette tracking you all the way back to Sinnoh in the middle of the Grand Festival.”

It vaguely crossed his mind that attracting a wild Banette to attack him mid-performance might just be a surprise. The thought passed quickly, because Viktor was Sinnoan and _did_ know about Giratina. In this world, even humans had to live by the whims of Pokémon sometimes.

A retinue of staff, human and Frisk-capable Pokémon alike, offered deep bows and condolences for the awkwardly contrite Banette. Having exchanged the needed apologies to make up for the previous faux pas, Viktor and Vika then entered the battle stage to find their opponent.

“Viktor!”

“Chris!”

The Kalosian Performer gave Viktor a lazy wave across the markings the delineated the battle zone. “Looks like Sepia and I are your opponents today. Vika is as beautiful as always.”

Viktor gave a short perfunctory bow to Chris’ squint-eyed Pokémon as well. Its beak clacked as its tentacles waved about.

“ _This is the last match of the four-match Battle Stage!_ ” The announcer shouted as the audience, human and Pokémon alike, began to cheer. “ _Now, by random selection, Viktor Nikiforov is up against_ _Kiloude City’s_ _Christophe Giacometti_ _and his Malamar_ _!_ _The rules, as we all know, are as such:_ _This is a timed battle, lasting_ _for_ _five minutes!_ _The battle will determine the competitors’ performance under pressure in limited space,_ _the appeal of move choices and combinations, and control over the battlefield!_ _Each side are allowed only one Pokémon_ _–_ _no switches,_ _no leaving the field,_ _and no healing items aside from what is already carried._ ”

“Are you ready, Vika?” Viktor murmured. Across the field, the Malamar slapped its Trainer on the back.

“ _Oh, Christophe Giacometti has just been spanked by his Malamar!_ ”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed. _Looks like Chris’ habits rubbed off onto his Pokémon..._ _at least nothing_ else _is being rubbed off._ “Look, he’s nervous.”

“This is our rematch!” Chris called back, flirting but not without heat. “I’ll be taking the centre with Sepia today, Viktor!”

“I’m looking forward to it, Chris.”

The buzzer signalled the countdown.

“Sepia, use Superpower!”

 _If it uses Superpower, its physical state would weaken with each continued use,_ Viktor immediately calculated. _But this is Chris’ Pokémon. So..._

“Don’t let him get this off, Vika,” Viktor cautioned. “Scald!”

“Watch out!” Chris’ shout went unheeded as the Malamar dived right into the stream of hot water shot directly into its face with the pressure of a fire-engine. The Milotic rolled, coiling its body to bat the Malamar away, but it held on with grim determination to lay a glancing blow.

“ _Incredible! Christophe Giacometti’s Malamar is holding its own, despite having incurred a burn from Scald!_ ” The announcer’s shout incited roars of approval from the crowd. “ _Originally, his choice of using Superpower and then reversing the incurred weakness from Superpower by Malamar’s own ability, Contrary, would have netted him extra points with the judges, but Viktor Nikiforov’s Milotic has just cut off its first bid_ _for the grand prize,_ _and laid on the pressure!_ ”

“Light Screen!” Chris snapped, watching in approval as the Malamar grunted, but conjured shimmering screens of light that would remain around it to protect it from non-contact offense. The screens panned and floated around, a veritable convex sphere of glowing panels.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Viktor commented, checking the soles of the boots where the covered blades were attached.

“Well, Viktor? What will you do-” Chris trailed off.

“Vika, Scald and Ice Beam.”

The manifested steaming water splashed, flowing on the screens of light before a beam of cold froze them. A cascade of water froze in a ramp and curled around the Trainer’s box that Viktor was standing on, and the surrounding area proceeded to freeze over under the Milotic’s cold command.

“ _V- Viktor Nikiforov has entered the field! We’ve seen this before, where Viktor’s Milotic uses Scald and Ice Beam to manipulate ice and water into an impromptu skating surface, but this is the first time that anyone can do it in mid-air!_ _The knowledge and timing needed is staggering!_ ”

Viktor made a flying split as he landed on the sphere in a flying sit spin. More hot water, flecked with the chips of blades cutting into ice, splashed and froze in mid-air to follow Viktor’s blade, freezing in a curved surface, like a crystal dish.

“ _V- Viktor Nikiforov is making an ice dish on top of the Light Screen!_ ”

Manipulating ice and water on the fly was a sensitive and delicate art. The Light Screen unwittingly helped, shaping the hot water from Scald to be frozen with Ice Beam.

Viktor danced, skidding across the surface and diving over the edge, blowing a kiss to the shocked Malamar as he skated away. “ _Excusez_ _-moi_ ,” the Kalosian greeting was done with perfect gallantry.

“ _What a shock!_ _Viktor’s mastery over ice is almost like a Glalie! It’s hard to believe that this was done by the combined efforts of human and Pokémon in synchrony!_ ”

“Don’t fret, Sepia,” Chris murmured as the Malamar tore its frozen tentacles from the icy bowl with a snarl. “Return it to Vika. Night Slash.”

Viktor slid over to stand next to his Milotic as the ends of its tentacles started to glow and the Malamar started to slash through the ice bowl. “Not the Psycho Cut. Prepare in advance, Vika. We’ll need a ring for reinforcement.”

“ _Milo, lo,_ ” Water droplets floated around its serpentine body, circling into rings that combined to form a concentric water veil.

“ _V- Viktor’s Milotic has started to use Aqua Ring?_ _Is it p_ _lanning for long-term recovery?_ ”

“ _Well,_ _at this stage Viktor could play it safe and keep his lead by paralysing, but he’s made it a habit to end his Battle Stages by battle-off._ ”

“About that size, Vika.” Viktor’s finger crossed one scale, touching his Pokémon at the same time that all three rings froze under another Ice Beam.

Viktor looped them into a disc fling towards the Malamar. Like some parody of a ring-toss game, all the rings looped around one tentacle of the Malamar, to its screeching surprise. “This would do. Ice Beam!”

Weighed down by the rings, the Malamar could not escape in time as the narrow beam of sheer icy cold slammed him into the far end of the concrete, tossed it out of the demarcated battlefield, and ended the battle.

“ _Battle Off! Viktor Nikiforov has won the_ _first round of the_ _Battle Stage!_ _Now the on-site medical response team, arranged specially from the Mauville City Pokémon Centre, will examine both sides- what is the_ _Blissey_ _matron doing?_ ” Morooka blinked as the large pink matron with a nurse’s cap shoved something into Viktor’s hand, which the performer desperately tried to refuse. “ _Is that a L_ _uc_ _ky_ _-_ ”

An older man, shouting with an aged Toxicroak in tow bodily muscled through, pulling Viktor behind with them and away from the infuriated Pokémon nurse. Amusedly, the Milotic began to follow along behind her Trainer, sliding across the ground like it was water, rippling in her wake.

“Ah...”

“No thank you, Christophe.”

“See, now I know something’s wrong,” Christophe sank into the only other chair in the green room where Yakov had bundled Viktor into the moment the Blissey appeared. “Blissey only act like that when they sense sadness, don’t they.”

Icy blue eyes stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

“Well, let’s see... Kalos PokéDex says, ‘This kind-hearted Pokémon nurses sick Pokémon back to health. It senses feelings of sadness’.” Christophe continued to thumb across the electronic file on his Holo Caster. “Oh, wow, I’m not the only one who’s picked up on it. Matron Blissey is trending on Fly. According to this entry from the Hoenn PokéDex, Volume 2: ‘Blissey senses sadness with its fluffy coat of fur. If it does so, this Pokémon will rush over to a sad person, no matter how far away, to share a Lucky Egg that brings a smile to any face’. Wow, I did not know that.”

“You learn something new every day.”

“You need a break, Viktor.”

“I just need to evade Matron Blissey until the battle against Otabek,” Viktor pulled at a satchel, extracting a Full Restore and a Leppa Berry from the medicine pouch.

Christophe jumped as a thump resounded on the wooden door. “Er-”

“Dear Arceus,” Viktor swore as the door splintered and cracked, and an ovoid pink menace in fluffy nurse attire tackled him bodily. “Makkachin, you traitor!”

Outside the green room, Makkachin yipped as a spoon and an egg the size of his palm was shoved into Viktor’s hand.

Chris and Vika the Milotic exchanged looks. “Erm...” Chris started. “Is he alright?”

The Milotic gave a dismissive flick of her tail.

“ _Blissey_.”

“I don’t even _like_ Lucky Egg,” Viktor wheedled.

“ _Bliss._ ”

“Oh, come on-”

“ _BLISSEY_.”

Viktor picked at the Egg and swallowed a mouthful of yolk. Silver bangs fell to hide his left eye as he smiled at the Blissey. “It’s delicious~”

The Blissey’s ruffled fringe shuddered. Her frown deepened.

Viktor dropped the smile and continued eating. “Damn Pokémon biology.”

“I’ll make sure he finishes that Egg, Matron,” Chris finally managed to fob off the Pokémon matron, who floundered off with a huff and a look at Viktor.

Viktor chose not to look at her. The fact that a Pokémon pitied him would be too much for him to bear.

“Well, that bit of amusement aside, shouldn’t you be happy?” Chris started chattering in the silence. “Me, I have to see to Sepia after Vika did a number on him. Vika, you fiend.”

“ _Milotic_!”

“Yes,” Chris complained with a smile.

“No reason to be,” Viktor sourly poked the insides of the Lucky Egg. “What kind of mothers are Chansey and Blissey, if they can just... give up their eggs like this? Not to disparage them.”

“Interesting conundrum,” Chris agreed with a sigh. “Well, after this I think I’ll take up Yuuri on his offer. Lavaridge Town is only north of Mauville, after all.”

“...Lavaridge?”

“Yes.” Christophe gave the Sinnoan an arch look. “Foot of Mt Chimney? Excellent hot springs? Yuuri Katsuki lives there.”

Viktor took a renewed interest in his Lucky Egg. “I didn’t know.”

“Whatever you say,” Chris chirped back, examining his nails and the splinters of the door. “After all, you’re the one crushing a newbie for the Hoenn Festival.”

“You know, these things are quite effective,” Viktor commented, staring at the Lucky Egg. “I’m certainly lucky now.”

Chris attributed the smile on Viktor’s face to the Lucky Egg. At least, right up until a snowstorm swept through the coastal tropical city of Mauville and drifted up north, creating comments on the Hoenn Weather Institute Forecast about another freak weather event. Was it the arrival of a new legendary...?

“VITYA!!!” Yakov’s bellow, which could feasibly be heard all the way back in Sinnoh, proved the Institute wrong. Hoenn’s freak weather this time was not due to a legendary – rather, its cause lay with an idiot Performer and his Snow Warning Ninetales, who was now running all the way north towards Mt Chimney.


End file.
